


Tortula ruralis, or how to accidentally let your friendly neighbourhood angel (and temporary housemate) know you care without actually saying so

by Nemeris (Eris18)



Series: herbarum amicitiam [1]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: It's basically horticulture and not talking about things, M/M, Plant Dad Crowley - Freeform, Seriously plants feature heavily in this, mood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 21:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19158988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eris18/pseuds/Nemeris
Summary: Seeing as Crowley was the only “other” in Aziraphale’s existence who was, indeed “significant” enough to qualify for this sort of thing, Aziraphale had entered a local gardening centre and acquired said star moss on the premise of it being:1. Something Crowley would like2. Reasonably priced.





	Tortula ruralis, or how to accidentally let your friendly neighbourhood angel (and temporary housemate) know you care without actually saying so

**Author's Note:**

> Footnotes are in hover text - please let me know if they don't work!
> 
> EDIT: Forget that, I woke up, tutted at 4am me, and did them properly!

There is a certain plant in Crowley’s collection which he does not treat quite the same way as he does the others. Whilst with 99% of his domestic flora, he uses fear tactics to discourage them from failure1, there is one specimen - a tortula ruralis (or [star moss plant](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tortula_ruralis)) - to which he is decidedly more gentle.

Both Crowley and Aziraphale claim not to remember how this plant came to be in the demon’s possession. This is a lie. Aziraphale, feeling sentimental in his middle age2, had noted that the anniversary of their first meeting on the Walls of Eden was approaching. Having lived among human beings for this long, Aziraphale noted that it was customary to make some sort of gesture towards the “significant other” on said occasions - usually a gift. Seeing as Crowley was the only “other” in Aziraphale’s existence who was, indeed “significant” enough to qualify for this sort of thing, Aziraphale had entered a local gardening centre and acquired said star moss on the premise of it being:

  1. Something Crowley would like
  2. Reasonably priced3.



The fact that it was also known to be resident to the region where the Garden of Eden once stood4 factored in no way into Aziraphale’s thinking5, as this particular plant was also known to be present all over the world and so the geographical significance held no bearing in this case6.

This star moss was thusly presented to Crowley on 28th February7. Star moss is not, by any stretch of the imagination, a special or particularly notable plant. However Crowley, for some reason unknown at the time8, did not pass any comment further than a single raised eyebrow. It was an acceptance as graceful as he could manage9.

What _was_ odd about Crowley’s reaction to this plant involved its domestic geography. That is to say, he did not place it with the usual gaggle of flourishing-whilst-terrified ferns and succulents: in fact, he put it in his bedroom10. The other oddness, as introduced earlier, was how he treated it.

Whilst the other plants quivered, shook, and sprouted out as a result of their fear, this plant would never know such feelings. Crowley, in fact, took an oddly intense amount of care to ensure that this unnotable, unremarkable star moss felt comfortable and _safe_ in its surroundings. Its daily routine involved being misted, its leaves gently caressed, and whispered to. And not the normal whispers to which the other plants were accustomed. No, in this one individual case of flora care, Crowley was... _kind_.

That is to say, inasmuch as anyone such as Crowley, being a demon/fallen angel/tired entity who just hung around with the wrong people to be quite honest _could_ be anything even near described as “kind”.

The main problem, as Crowley saw it, with this habit of being nice to a plant, was as follows:

  1. The other plants might find out, and his reputation would be ruined,
  2. Aziraphale might find out11, and
  3. He was _being kind to a plant_ , and this was Very Very Odd.



Being that Fate is usually a fan of both iterative tropes12 and a follower of the Ineffable Plan13, of course Aziraphale found out.

During the one night between being homeless and suddenly acquiring the entire _Just William_ book series, Aziraphale very temporarily (and extremely hesitantly) took Crowley up on his offer of cohabitation. After Crowley had quickly created a second bedroom14 in his flat and the two of them honing their knowledge and execution of each other’s innate mannerisms, the two of them decided that they had had quite enough of pretending they weren’t exhausted and retired for the evening.

Aziraphale was, on occasion, a heavy sleeper15, for any given amount of sleep that he usually required. Tonight, as he lay staring at the ceiling of his newly created temporary abode, the inevitable thought occurred that he had just saved the world. It felt odd. This led to a thought spiral consisting of losing his home (no, his _books_ ), his inevitable trial (he’d already been discorporated once this week and that was quite enough thank you), and the fact that he was now apparently (albeit temporarily) living with a demon.

A demon who was muttering in the next room. It appeared that, whilst Crowley had created a rather suitably decorated and comfortable room, his ~~companion~~ ~~friend~~ ~~acquaintance~~ current flatmate16 had neglected to create any sort of soundproofing between their two bedrooms. Therefore, Aziraphale could mostly hear what Crowley was saying.

What Crowley was saying did not sound like Crowley. Crowley sounded almost...soft? Kind?

Either Aziraphale was very tired and imagining things, or Aziraphale was very tired and _not_ imagining things. He didn’t quite know which worried him more, at this moment in time. His only options were to go to sleep and pretend this hadn’t happened, or to listen in.

Aziraphale sat up and pressed his ear to the wall17. Of course, if he had bothered to just teleport into the other room, he would have seen Crowley kneeling next to his bedside table, whispering softly to the star moss given to him on the absolutely insignificant date of 28th February in a manner usually unbecoming of this specific demon in general, never mind when he spoke to his houseplants.

"The angel who gave you to me would be very disappointed if you didn't grow all nice,” came the surprisingly soft voice through the wall. “Not that he's going to see you, because you live in my bedroom. But...he might ask one day, and...I don't want to...lie. Oh. I...don't want to lie to him. Wow. Alright. Uhm. Well, apart from that, I just would like you to keep giving me those beautiful white flowers that you’ve got right now. You’re not even meant to flower, but you’re doing it. They remind me of his feathers, you know..."

It was at this point that a beet-faced Aziraphale pulled his head away from the wall and spent the next few moments trying to remember how to breathe and blink simultaneously. That was...what? There were a few things confusing Aziraphale. Not only did Crowley still have that plant that Aziraphale had given him18, it lived in Crowley’s bedroom19, and Crowley was _nice_ to it20.

Usually, Aziraphale tried as hard as possible to prove Crowley wrong21. However, in this case, Crowley was right: Aziraphale _was_ going to ask about the plant. Purely out of vague interest as he had not seen that plant in a while, and for no other reason22.

He didn’t really sleep that night, given that this thought quite firmly inserted itself into the current tumult of his mind. In fact, it rather unhelpfully took priority over certain other matters that may - to others - have been more time dependent.

He _really_ needed to know more about the plant, though.

Unfortunately, the following few days did not permit enough time for flora-based sleuthing, given the amount of energy it took to both look like Crowley and pretend to be Crowley (Aziraphale would forever be proud about demanding a towel from _Michael_ , of all celestial beings).

It wasn’t until they had managed to toast a rather successful venture in a rather nice lunch setting that Aziraphale thought of it again.

“...Why are you making _that_ face?” Crowley asked. “We just saved the world, got away with mouthing off at the bastards in charge, _and_ we’re about to eat a decent selection of perfectly crafted tiny sandwiches. You should be ecstatic...?”

“I was just thinking,” Aziraphale said, “about the beginning. Garden of Eden, and all that. And now we’re here.”

“...So?” Crowley asked. “Were there any particular...conclusions?”

“Tortula ruralis,” Aziraphale said. “It’s...still around. All over the world. Been around as long as we have.”

Even with the sunglasses, Aziraphale could tell that Crowley was squinting at him suspiciously.

“Don’t know why I thought of it, really,” Aziraphale continued. “Just...came to my mind, these past few days.”

Crowley set his champagne glass down carefully, but surely, and peered over the top of his sunglasses23.

“Why in the name of whoever are you talking about star m...” Crowley stopped suddenly, pushed his sunglasses right back up to his eyes and sat up straight again. “You heard,” he said, before picking up his champagne glass and subsequently downing its contents.

“ _You_ didn’t go to Alpha Centauri,” Aziraphale also downed the rest of his champagne, but rather more slowly than his demon counterpart had done.

This being the Ritz, the glasses were refilled quickly and unintrusively.

“ _You_ chose _me_ to visit whilst discorporated,” Crowley near-hissed, though without malice.

“ _You_ asked me to stay with you!” Aziraphale leaned forward, trying his British best to not make a scene.

“ _You_ listened through the wall!” Crowley also leaned forward.

“ _You_ didn’t make the walls soundproof!”

“ _You gave me that damned plant in the first place_!”

A nearby waiter decided that perhaps this was not the time to refill the sandwiches, and promptly moved on to the next table.

There was an eternal, impassable moment in which neither Aziraphale nor Crowley dared to move. To this day, neither will admit who conceded first, but a concession happened, and they both returned to their normal seated positions24.

Aziraphale began pouring the tea. Crowley shared out the scones. Neither spoke, for both everything and nothing had just been said.

“I suppose,” Aziraphale said after a few minutes, “that star moss isn’t that important, after all that’s happened.”

Crowley shrugged.

“I like it,” he replied. “You should know, given the last few days, that it’s not about what things _are_ , but what they _could be_.”

Aziraphale allowed himself one of his small but open smiles. Crowley smirked.

“I’m glad you got your bookshop back,” he said, after another pause.

“Ah, yes,” Aziraphale replied. “Did I tell you, I got some new additions? The entire _Just William_ series. First editions.”

“...That boy is a strange one,” Crowley said, taking an inelegant bite out of his scone.

Aziraphale hummed in agreement, reaching for his tea.

The waiter eventually refilled the sandwiches.

* * *

  1. As opposed to “encourage them to grow”, because this is definitely not how Crowley operates with regards to horticulture. [▲] 
  2. So around the age of “Why would you ask that, it’s bloody rude!” [▲]
  3. Read: on sale so as not to incite being teased by said Crowley for putting too much effort in. [▲]
  4. Allegedly. [▲]
  5. This is also a lie. [▲]
  6. At least, that is how Aziraphale justified it to himself. Still a lie. [▲]
  7. Accounting for the time taken to create Earth, as well as the fact of Eve’s incomplete pregnancy, artistic license says that approximately 5 months and 7 days had passed before Adam and Eve were summarily told to find alternative lodging. [▲]
  8. The appropriate response here is: 👀, or *eyes emoji*. [▲]
  9. If you were wondering what he gave Aziraphale for the occasion (because of course he had also realised that such a date should be noted): a handpicked box of Liberty chocolates...in flavours that Aziraphale only sort of liked, obviously. [▲]
  10. He would never deign to call this “pride of place”, despite being a demon beholden to the Seven Deadly Sins, but that is what this was. [▲]
  11. See footnote 8. [▲]
  12. Otherwise known as “Murphy’s Law”, but for fanfiction. [▲]
  13. Which could basically be described as fanfiction written by the original author of everything ever created (see footnote 4), i.e. God. [▲]
  14. A fairly impressive feat involving a fair bit of compressing dimensional physics, given the available real estate. [▲]
  15. And a snorer, according to thousands of other angels and one particular demon. [▲]
  16. The phrase “delete as appropriate” has never been more _in_ appropriate as it is in this case. [▲]
  17. “Being a nosy bugger”, it should be mentioned, is not one of the Seven Deadly Sins. It is, technically, a broken Commandment, but given how many of those Aziraphale had broken just in the last 24 hours, this didn’t even register. [▲]
  18. ...Okay. [▲]
  19. What? [▲]
  20. There was a certain phrase popular with the current President of the USA: “Fake news”. It seemed relevant. [▲]
  21. Sort of true? But only when the least amount of actual effort was involved. [▲]
  22. This could not be any _more_ of a lie. Honestly, the other previous lies fade in comparison. [▲]
  23. After having pulled them down for dramatic effect, of course. [▲]
  24. As much as you can call anything Crowley does in or near a chair “sitting”. [▲]




End file.
